Door Slams and Discipline
by QuillVA
Summary: Olivia tries to warn Roman with a slap to the face, but when his attitude continues, she gets to the bottom of the matter. Warning, contains spanking. Don't like it, don't read it.


"Get out of my sight", Olivia hissed, walking away. Roman cursed under his breath and stomped up the stairs, his cheek still smarting from the slaps his mother had given him. He slammed the door behind him and crashed onto his bed, only able to brood for a moment before the door flew back open revealing an angry Olivia.

"We do not slam doors in this household", she said, clutching the door handle out of anger.

"That's funny. I thought wewere supposed to knock before we entered a room too", Roman turned away from her on the bed and his mothers eyes narrowed. She crossed the room in a few brisk paces and turned him around by the shoulder.

"Enough. Clearly it's been too long since you've had a good measure of discipline. Fetch the cane and bring it here _now_." The boy's stomach sank. It had been months since his last beating. He thought he'd outgrown it. Every inch of rebellion melted out of him and he looked to his mother with puppy eyes.

"No. Mom, no. I'm sorry, okay. I didn't mean to slam the door, I, it just closed. I'm sorry"

"I didn't ask for your excuses Roman Godfrey", she spat, unmoved by his begging, "I asked for the cane. Do you want to fetch it now, or shall you have a taste of the belt as incentive?"

Roman's eyes filled with tears as he stood up, arcing to keep the most distance between he and his mother as possible.

"The little whippy one", she called after him.

He went into his closet and walked towards the back corner. He pushed back a rack of coats to unveil a small umbrella stand filled with canes, paddles and crops. Shuddering, he pulled out the cane his mother had referred to, a flexible thin cane that stung worse than all the other implements combined. He sighed again, trying not to cry. He flicked the cane into his hand as a test and pulled the hand back in pain. Yeah, it was as bad as he remembered.

"Clothes off and get over my knee", Olivia said impatiently, sitting the cane by her side on the bed and turning back to her son. He took his jacket and shirt off slowly, trying to avoid the inevitable. Olivia, however, was in no mood for stalling. She stood up, taking the cane in hand and delivered three stinging strokes on top of Roman's jeans. He bucked and hissed, trying to wriggle away from her grasp.

"You will do as you're told quickly and without attitude. Is that clear?", she asked holding the cane in her hands and furrowing her brows at the boy.

"Yes ma'am", he said, quickly unbuttoning his jeans and bringing them down with his underwear. He stepped out of them and looked at his mother with a mixture of repentance and anxiety.

"Over my knee", she said. She sat down, relinquishing the cane to its previous post on the bed. Roman climbed over her knee. For most people, his height would have made the position awkward, but his mother was nearly as tall as he was. She helped to lower him down gracefully, stroking his bottom gently for a moment before bringing her hand down hard. Roman jumped and lowered his head. He could almost feel the red hand imprinted on his bottom. He hated this position more than almost anything in the world, except of course for being caned, which was also going to happen tonight. Why did he always have to push his mother's buttons?

Olivia rained down smack after smack onto her son's bottom, covering first the middle with a series of swats at half force. For his most sensitive spot, below the bottom and above the thighs she increased her strength. Roman wriggled and moaned under the pain, but she held him steady. The boy was tall and strong, but his mother would always be stronger than him. When he reached his hand back to protect his bottom, Olivia pinned the arm behind his back giving him three full force swats that made him cry out before releasing his arm again.

"We do not block our punishment. You know better"

"Yes ma'am" Roman cried out, clutching his mother's dress. The small gesture made her ease up on the spanking, although Roman couldn't tell by that point. Her sweet, troublesome boy. He could have grabbed the sheets or the bedpost for comfort, but he chose her skirt. Sweet, sweet boy. She finished up with a few firm swats, eager to get the punishment over with. Roman felt a small wave of relief when she stopped, then sobbed anew remembering what came next.

Olivia debated letting him go without the caning, but she knew she had to stay course. Now that Roman was getting older, he thought he was invincible. Better to send him a message now than deal with the consequences later. She lifted him up out of her lap.

"Bend over the bed"

"Yes- ma'am", Roman choked out the words between sobs, bending over the bed. He felt the cane rest on his bottom for a moment before he felt the whoosh of air.

"Ow. One, thank you ma'am", he cried without being asked. He'd refused to count once when his mother didn't ask him to. He thought he was getting away with it because she didn't remind him. Instead, he took an entire twelve strokes before his mother had drawled 'Alright, now let's try that again properly. After each stroke, you will count and thank me. From one'. From then on, he'd followed the rules he knew were in place.

"Twooo. Sss. Thank you ma'am", two lines of fire streaked across his bottom.

"Threeaah. Thank you ma'am", he tried hard to maintain his position.

"Agh", Roman's knees buckled for a moment, but he straightened back up quickly, "F-four, thank you ma'am"

"Keep your position or we _will_ start again. Am I clear"

"Nooo. Msorreee", he said bending his legs away from the cane again.

"Then keep your legs straight."

"Y-yes maham", he straightened up and lost his breath as the fifth stroke came down harder than the others.

"… five", his breath hitched in a sob "Thank- thank you mmma'am"

"Aggghhooooowww. Six. Six Thank you ma'am", Olivia threw the cane to the ground and pulled her son into a gentle embrace. The naked boy sobbed into her arms, clinging onto the front of her dress. She guided them both over to the bed, pulling him onto her lap. He would never be too old for this. Her sweet sweet boy.

He was hers and no one else's.


End file.
